


Echoes

by Feral_Female



Category: Torchwood
Genre: AU, Aliens, Anal Play, Anal Sex, M/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9604139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feral_Female/pseuds/Feral_Female
Summary: What is an echo? According to the dictionary it can be a series of sounds caused by the reflection of sound waves from a surface back to the listener. An echo can also be a close parallel of an idea, style, thought, or event. So, an echo can be a duplicate, a replica, a mirror image…This story begins a few weeks after the events of “Table for Four” and opens with our diligent factotum working late while the dashing Captain is away in London on official business…or is he? Could there be something in the Hub with Ianto? Something with stunning blue eyes, a winning smile, and a hunger that’s been denied for far too long…or is it just Jack, home early and looking to slake a different kind of hunger?I’ll be posting new chapters on Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays.This story – as all of mine do - takes place mainly before CoE although you may pick up some nods to things that occurred in the first three episodes of “Children of Earth”. There may be some small liberties taken from time to time with references to the show and its timelines.





	1. Echoes - Chapter One - Burning the Midnight Oil

**Echoes**

**Chapter One**

**Burning the Midnight Oil**

**Ianto**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

The letters on the monitor had coalesced. I sat back, pushed the heels of my hands into my bleary eyes, and rubbed. Perhaps I should call it a night. Or new day? It was close to one in the morning and I’d been entering our finds into the archives for hours. The others had gone home around midnight but good old anal Ianto just couldn’t stop until every little bit of rift junk had been entered into the data bases. Sometimes I hate being so pedantic about such things.

I threw a look at the pile of tagged bits of garbage lying neatly on Jack’s desk. The rift had been extremely busy the past two days, bubbling and burping up hundreds of items across Cardiff. Several had dropped out of the sky here in the Hub, one shard of metal nearly clunking Owen on the head as he had fiddled on his computer trying to decode my DNA. He had vowed he would not give up until he cracked how and why I was no longer one hundred percent human. That gesture touched me. The man had a good heart. It was just encased in a rock-hard layer of cynicism.

“Okay, so let’s just do ten more items and then we’ll go home. To that empty bed.” I sighed, picked up a bag that held what looked like a severed frog leg but was blue with yellow spots. What had happened to the rest of the alien no one knew. I wrinkled my nose and typed in the date found followed by _‘One reptilian-type leg. Blue. Yellow spots. Looks foul. Smells fouler.’_ and then tossed the slimy appendage into a tote with sixty or so other bagged and tagged items.

After that one, I decided I needed coffee to continue. I pushed from the desk, looked around at Jack’s space, sighed yet again, and then stood up. The ping of a message coming in on my laptop grabbed my attention. I sat back down, opened the Torchwood internal messenger, and smiled at the image of Jack filling my screen.

“I thought you might be in bed,” he opened with. “I was kind of hoping for some cybersex like last night.”

“Well, sadly, I’m still at the office trying to get a handle on all this archive work. We can still talk dirty to each other.”

“Are you alone?”

I laughed. “Now’s a fine time to ask, but yes, I’m alone. You?” Now that he had suggested it, some sexual release might be just what I needed to ease my mind from work mode into sleep mode.

“For the moment. Martha is hovering around somewhere though so, unless we want to include her in our masturbatory games, we probably should keep our pants zipped.”

“Damn.”

“I agree, so anything happening I need to know about?” He looked tired. Maybe he was having trouble sleeping without me at his side. I liked to think so. God knows I now tossed and turned when he wasn’t taking up three-quarters of the bed splayed over top of me, his thick legs tangled in mine.

“If there were I would have notified you immediately. It’s just one of those periods where all the sludge of space drops through the rift into our laps. You chose a good time to attend that symposium hosted by U.N.I.T.”

“’Chose’ isn’t exactly the correct terminology. ‘Blackmailed by Martha Jones into going with her’ sounds a bit more accurate.” He smiled and it helped lighten the dark circles under his eyes for just a second or two. “When I get home let’s watch Hans Gruber fall off the Nakatomi Plaza building as we’re making love. We can yell ‘Yippee ki-yay’ when we come.”

“Christmas has come and gone,” I commented, rolling an arm to try to loosen the knot between my shoulder blades.

“The only time we can watch Hans tumble to his death is at Christmas time?”

“Yep,” I said making sure to pop the P.

“It’s got to be nearing some holiday in the States. That should count.”

“It should but it doesn’t. Sorry. Next time we do a flick at home we’ll be watching something with less Bruce Willis and more Alan Rickman.”

He pulled a face. “Please don’t tell me we’re doing another Harry Potter marathon…”

“Nope. _Quigley Down Under_.”

“Ooo, Rickman _and_ Selleck. I’m up for that.”

“No doubt you will be.”

“You know me so well,” he chuckled then whispered “Shit, it’s Martha,” when Dr. Jones suddenly appeared behind him.

“Oh hey, that’s real nice!” Martha chided then bent down to gaze at me over Jack’s shoulder. She was such a lovely woman. If I weren’t besotted with the man she was draped over, I’d seriously consider asking her out. Not that I would stand a chance because she had a man but I’d ask…maybe.

“I didn’t mean it like ‘Shit, it’s that Martha woman’. I meant ‘Shit, it’s Martha and I have to get back to the drudgery of listening to all those tapes of the speakers we missed,’ Jack explained then pecked her on her smooth cheek.

“Yeah, right. Hey Ianto, your man is quite crabby. I think he misses you and all that dabbling you two do.” She gave me a saucy wink and hugged Jack around the neck.

My face grew hot. Jack looked at Martha with confusion.

“Dabbling?” Jack asked of her. She smiled cheekily. His gaze came to me and I pretended to be reading something official. “Oh-kay. Enough about my temperament. I’m going to see if I can cut out early. Maybe they can function without me.”

“I’m sure U.N.I.T. will fall right apart without your cunning and caustic comments stirring everyone up,” Martha tossed out.

“So, he’s being his usual self then? Clever, cute, and cutting with a side of crafty?” I asked of the two in London.

“Don’t forget charming and well hung,” Jack replied. Martha rolled her eyes.

“Well hung doesn’t start with a ‘C’,” I reminded Mr. Harkness.

“I know but it needed to be said. Be safe. I’ll talk to you soon. Don’t work too hard. Go home. Sleep. I want you well rested when I get back. Tell the team to behave and follow Owen’s orders. Make sure you water the plants in the greenhouse and--”

“Jack, would you hang up already? You two are worse than an old married couple,” Martha laughed from outside of the camera’s reach now.

“Bye,” he said with a lusty arch of an expressive brow and then he was gone.

“Bye,” I muttered, turned off the messenger, and rose.

I debated about coffee and more work, but in the end, fatigue spurred me seek a few hours of rest. Down the metallic catwalks I went, eying the old couch with something close to lust. I pulled off my jacket and tie and toed off my shoes. The cushions sank with soft expulsions of air as my weight stretched over the sofa. I set the alarm on my phone for two hours from now. This way I could return to work and hopefully have the previous day’s items chronicled before more space debris clattered down around us. I flipped and rolled a few times, finally finding a comfortable position looking out at the Hub, my left arm serving as my pillow. Sleep overtook me quickly.

For some reason, I woke up shortly after nodding off, my eyes flying open and landing on a shape in the shadows. It was an easily recognizable outline. Few men wore a coat with the kind of panache that he did. The man lingered in the inky corners, silently watching me. I reached for my mobile to check the time. 1:45, a mere forty minutes after I had lain down.

“Jack, were you even _in_ London when you called?” I sleepily asked, enjoying the upswing of sexual tension already in the air. It was always like this with him. Simply seeing his dark form set my mind to spinning lurid ideas involving him and I. “Not even someone with a lead foot like you can get from London to Cardiff in less than an hour.”

He didn’t reply. I called his name again. He answered by lifting his arms and opening them for me. It was all the incentive I needed. I sat up, slid my feet into my shoes, and went to him.

 

**To be continued…**


	2. Echoes - Chapter Two - Me and Dr. Jones

**Echoes**

**Chapter Two**

**Me and Dr. Jones**

**Jack**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

“Is there a reason that you don’t have a spare tire _or_ a lug wrench?” I asked, arms crossed over my chest. Martha stood beside me staring into the trunk of her car as if willing a spare to materialize out of thin air. This was not on my agenda. I should be halfway to Cardiff. A soft bed with a hard man awaited me and I wanted both desperately.

“Are you _sure_ there’s nothing in the boot?” She took our bags out as I had done four times and began patting around. “When I had that last flat I could have _sworn_ they put a replacement tire back in.”

“Well, they didn’t.” She lifted the carpeting that covered the well where the spare would be if there were one in the trunk. Which there was not. She flipped the carpet back into place then looked at me sheepishly.

“Jack, I am _so_ sorry about this.” The soft rain had dampened her cheeks and hair. She looked like a puppy that had piddled on the floor in excitement when you walked through the door. She knew she had done wrong but you couldn’t really scold her. Well, you _could,_ but it would just make you feel like a heel. “I know you’re in a hurry to get home. You hated the symposium and now I’ve stuck you out here in the rain, with no spare, when all you want is to go home and be with Ianto.”

“It’s fine,” I lied and pulled her in for a quick hug. “We passed an exit for Thatcham about three miles back. We can hike there and see if we can find a garage with a tow truck.”

“Right, of course. Maybe we can locate a few bars of cell service along the way.” She pulled free and bestowed one of her lovely smiles on me. “I am sorry.”

“I know,” I replied then slammed the trunk shut. I flipped up the collar of my coat and offered her my elbow. She pulled a plastic rain bonnet out of the pocket of her coat, placed it on her head, tied it smartly under her chin, and slid her hand under my arm. “You did lock the car and put the keys into your purse, right?”

“Yes, of course.” We waited while she dug around in her purse. Once we were both reassured we set off, her hand resting on my arm. We had walked perhaps forty feet when she decided we needed conversation of a personal nature. “So, how goes things with Ianto?”

“Fine. Things are fine.” Huh, now _I_ was the one overusing ‘fine’. “We’re fine.” _Damn it, Jack._

“I’m happy to hear that everything is good. Are you two serious?”

“Define serious,” I said as we avoided several large puddles.

“You know what serious means,” Dr. Jones replied. “As in you’re only dabbling with him.”

“Okay, I _really_ need to know what all this giggly stuff around the word ‘dabble’ means,” I snipped then instantly felt bad. “Apologies. I’m beyond tired but I’d still love to know what I missed.”

“You hate being out of any loop, don’t you?” the woman on my arm enquired knowingly.

“Drives me up a tree,” I confessed. Martha laughed, lighting the way down the side of the road with the flashlight app on her phone. “Ianto says that it’s part of my alpha personality. I have to know what my beta and all the others in my pack are doing at all times.”

“Is Ianto your beta?”

“Do you mean in life or in terms of my team?”

“Life. I know who your team beta is even though Owen seems to think its him.”

Gwen. Yes, she had the makings of a superb second. Why then did I always put Owen in charge when I left? Was it a slap in the face to Gwen for going off and getting engaged without me knowing about it? Hopefully it wasn’t a misogynistic tic in my personality. I mulled on that for a second. No, it was a slap for her not consulting me about her plans to wed Rhys, who was a perfectly fine fellow…mostly. Maybe it was time to have that talk with her. As each day went by I felt myself growing closer to Ianto and this flirtatious thing between us was only going to end up becoming an issue at some point.

 “Jack?”

I snapped back to the rainy walk. “Woolgathering,” I said with a light laugh. “It’s possible he might be but--”

“Nope, no, do not add a ‘but’ there, Jack.” She cut me off quickly. “Don’t belittle what you two have.”

“I’m not belittling it,” I argued, “I’m merely trying to keep it in context. You know how our lives are, Martha. Death is a bullet or Dalek invasion away.” _For them, Jack, not for you…_

“Which is why we need loved ones at our side.” She stopped walking so I did as well. The woman stepped in front of me and met my curious look with a stern one. Her long lashes were spiked from the rain.  “Jack, don’t push away love because you’re scared of someday losing it. Grab it, hold it, and keep it close to your breast. Savor it _because_ of how our lives are.”

I stared at her openly and for a long time. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an incredibly intelligent and beautiful woman?”

“Don’t lay that Flirty McGerty stuff on me. It won’t work.” She wagged a finger at me and I looked skyward, the rain dotting my face, my eyes searching for an answer among the inky blackness.

“We need to get walking.” I offered her my arm again. She made a face like one would if one were having a gastric attack.

“ _Jack…_ ”

“ _Martha…_ ”

“Argh! God, you’re _such_ a tenacious ass.” She latched onto my arm and stalked off, tugging me along in her wake. “Someday you’ll wake up and realize that you can’t keep everyone at arm’s length. You keep monkeying around and you’ll lose Ianto and his love and then where you be?”

“I’ll be at Torchwood saving the world from aliens.”

She spun and threw my arm away like it was a moldy hot dog. “And a fine way that is to live your life. Gah! You’re as stubborn as he is when it comes to love!” She whipped her hand into the air over her head but I know exactly who she was talking about. After she flung that at my face she whirled around and stalked off, her hands in fists at her side, her steps brisk.

Looked like the walk had just gotten far less enjoyable.

 

**To be continued…**

 


	3. Echoes - Chapter Three - Soulless

**Echoes**

**Chapter Three**

**Soulless**

**Ianto**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

His arms tightened around me and I breathed in deeply, my body desperate to smell and touch him. Odd, his unique smell wasn’t as strong as usual. I pressed myself closer, tasting of his lips gently at first. His response was lukewarm at best. So, I deepened the kiss, hoping to spark that tinder that the two of us seemed to be made of. Stick men, that’s what Jack and I were. Bundles of kindling eager for the match to set us aflame.

Or usually that was the case. He kissed me back but it was lacking something. “You must be more tired than I thought,” I whispered over his lips then lapped at the corner of his mouth, a move that always spurred him into reacting with passion. His fingers trailed up my back, over my shoulders, and cradled my skull, his thumbs resting firmly on my jaw. “Now that’s better,” I sighed, my body responding to the strength of his hold. I twisted my fingers into the folds of his coat. He lowered his head and tasted my throat. A groan slipped between my lips, low and gruff, it echoed off the damp walls. I shuddered when his teeth grazed my jugular, my hold on his coat keeping his body tight to mine. My breathing was ragged, my cock plump, and my need to have him inside me overpowering.

“Greenhouse,” I gasped when he began to suckle on my neck. An odd, heated sound came from him. Pulling free, I heard him snarl like a dog that’s owner had taken its bone. “I feel the same way,” I told him, grabbed a kiss, and then slid my fingers into his. He silently followed me up to the greenhouse. After stepping into the humid room, he slipped away, moving among the plants, touching the leaves, stroking greenery as if he had never seen a plant before. I waited impatiently, my body ready for more than a hands-on botany lesson. “Jack?”

His shoulders rose and fell as he sucked in a large breath. He turned from the plants to face me. A buzzing sort of madness overcame me. Fingers shaking, I yanked at my shirt, desperate now to have him touch me. Buttons bounced off the glass walls. Jack walked to me, his eyes lowered, his stride sure. He shoved me to the wall. I bounced off the glass once then stepped back, plastering my back to the warm, wet glass. If that was where he wanted me that was where I would be. Jack’s hands went to my chest and then roamed up to rest on my shoulders. I fumbled with my belt, my eyes on his mouth and the way his tongue would dart out to wet his lips. My shirt hung off my left shoulder.

“Jack, shit,” I mumbled, his touch searing my skin. My mind slowed when he pinned me to the greenhouse wall. “Ah, God, Jack.” I got my belt free and let it hit the floor. His mouth dropped over mine, his fingers sliding up until his hands cradled my head. His fingertips tightened on my face. The snap of his hands was lightning quick. The back of my head slammed into the thick glass.

 There was a brief flash of incredible pain. My knees buckled slightly. “What the fuck?!” I barked at the man whose fingers now dug into my flesh. He jerked me from the floor, his upper lip rolling back like a feral dog. Another quick flare of movement. The back of my head cracked into the glass once more. I began to struggle, white flashes popping behind my eyes. “Jack, stop, _stop!_ ” I yelled as I tried to pry his fingers from my head. If this were his idea of rough and tumble foreplay I wasn’t interested. Our sight met. His gaze was soulless. Brilliant and blue but with no emotion…no humanity.

He never said a word, he just continued trying to pound my head into the thick Plexiglas. I managed to get a finger of his wrenched free and bent it back until the bone broke. Jack - or whatever it was – flinched. A sound that could have been a word burbled out of him. Wiggling to free myself, I got a knee and then a foot up into his sternum and pushed, his hold weakening when I got both feet into his chest. With a grunt, I kicked out with all my strength.

His fingers dug into my head as he tried to hold on, pulling out clumps of hair he stumbled backward. I hit the ground hard, my hip taking the brunt of the impact. The thing leaped at me lying on the floor. I rolled, scrabbling to get to my feet and find a weapon. My gun was down on Jack’s desk along with my phone, commlink, and wallet. There was nothing but plants so I used those. The doppelganger got a large potted fern to the head. That slowed the bastard down. I lunged for the door and fell through it. It hit the door on the other side. I pushed. It pushed.

“What the hell _are_ you?” I panted, putting my shoulder to the door to try to get it into position to be locked. Jack – it - made a pulsating noise in frustration then gave the door a mighty shove. I went to my ass, my back bouncing off the metal railing. It grabbed at my leg. I rolled and went off the side, my fingers latching onto the edge of the damp metal flooring. Knowing it would have me I let go, falling to the first floor. The landing was awkward, wet, and rough. I heard the thing above me, racing across the catwalk then thundering down the stairs. I ran as fast as I could into Jack’s office and streaked around his desk, grabbed my gun and phone, then hunkered down behind the desk to make a call. As I swiped to find my contacts all sorts of major hell broke loose.

“Dear God, it’s locking down the Hub,” I whispered in shock. Alarm sirens blaring, red lights flashing, and that damn cold feminine robotic voice calling ‘Torchwood Lockdown” over and over filled me with dread. “How the _hell_ did it know how to do that?”

It was Jack, that’s how. Somehow that creature had duplicated itself into a nearly perfect copy of the head of Torchwood and now had all the knowledge that Jack Harkness had. Wonderful. Simply wonderful. _You could have been a barista in a trendy coffee shop, Ianto. Echoes of the man you’re crazy about hardly ever overrun coffee shops. But no, you had to have adventure mixed in with your coffee preparation skills. Idiotic knob._

I had to get down there and override the system before it was too late and I got trapped inside with--

The blast door rumbled shut.

“Shit.”

The thing made that odd rumbling sound again. Something answered in like.

“Damn.”

Then another something sounded off not five feet from where I was hidden.

“Fuck.”

 

**To be continued…**


	4. Echoes - Chapter Four - Grand Theft Auto

**Echoes**

**Chapter Four**

**Grand Theft Auto**

**Jack**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

The rain had turned from a light drizzle into a steady downpour because nature liked to be that way, the miserable bitch. My coat weighed about a hundred pounds hanging limply off my shoulders. At least the company was pleasant now that she had walked off her tiff.

“…tried repeatedly to get him to take me to ancient Egypt. I thought being worshipped as a Nubian princess would be a nice change.” Martha joked, her smile winning even as we slogged through a small burg that had rolled up the sidewalks at sunset.

“I’d worship you if you’d just give me the chance,” I teased. She waved me off with a wet hand. “Are we _really_ going to have to walk all the way to Thatcham?”

“Looks that way,” Martha sighed, water running off her nose in a steady stream. “Where did you want to go with him but never got the chance?”

“There’s this one planet – Pirdas 122 – that’s nothing but white sands and sapphire water, warm breezes and young men in little to nothing serving you tall glasses of bubbly green Pirdas sweet wine.”

“Sounds delightful,” she sighed, her shoes as squelchy as mine.

“It is. And the only people who are permitted to vacation there are men who are in a triad.”

Martha stopped walking to stare up at me. “Wait.” She raised a hand. I stopped, a smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “You’re telling me that there’s a planet that caters exclusively to men who are having a three-way relationship?”

“Oh yeah,” I replied, the smile breaking into a lecherous grin.

“And you want to go there with him?”

“And Ianto.” Even the deluge I was currently standing in did nothing to cool the hot flashes that imagining myself, the Doctor, and Ianto writhing around naked in the same bed caused. The punch to my biceps delivered by the good doctor at my side worked to pull me from that licentious dream though. “Ow.”

“You looked like you were a few good thoughts away from embarrassing yourself.”

I opened my mouth to confirm that it took more than a steaming ménage daydream to make me embarrass myself when my phone rang. I looked at Martha in shock. Her eyes were round as hubcaps. I yanked the phone from my front pocket, thrilled as hell to be hearing Ianto’s ringtone piercing the quiet night.

“Ianto, thank God! Listen, I need you to find the number for a tow truck that’s near--” My worries over a flat tire evaporated when I heard that distinctive emergency alarm ringing in my ear. What was going on inside my house? “What the hell is going on?”

“Jack! Aliens inside the Hub. At least three, could be more. I suspect they drifted in with the flotsam and jetsam over the past few days. One has locked us down.” He sounded winded.

“ _What?_ How? How could an alien know what’s required to initiate the lockdown sequence? Ianto, are they dangerous?”

“Yes, I’d say so. The one that looks like you tried to drive my head through the--.” A loud sound like a roar but not drowned out what Ianto had been saying. “Shit! Jack, it’s in your office. I could use a bit of help here!”

The call ended. _The one that looked like me?_ I spun around in the middle of the street - desperately searching for something although I didn’t know what - then spied an old garage sitting next to a ramshackle house.

“Jack! What’s wrong?”

“There are aliens in my base. With Ianto. Come on.” I bolted for the garage, praying that there would be some sort of shitty old truck or scooter we could borrow. The double doors were padlocked. I went around back and drove my elbow into an old window. The rain beating on the steel roofing covered the sound of breaking glass. After knocking all the dangerous shards out of the frame, I wiggled through, the fit tight. Martha climbed in after me. I helped her free herself after her coat got tangled on the latch. She smiled at me in thanks and we both turned to look at something sitting under a large cloth cover.

“Want to bet its older than dirt with no seats or engine?” Martha drearily sighed.

“Nah, fate smiles on Jack Harkness,” I bragged, prayed for a miracle, and whipped the cover off the car theatrically. I never expected to see what I saw. “See, I told you,” I boasted as we gawked at the pristine Austin Healey 3000 circa 1963. She was a black-and-white, two-seater convertible and was she ever sexy. “Hop in.” I took just a moment to leave one of my cards on the oily workbench. Martha dropped into the passenger seat. I wiggled behind the wheel and caressed the original upholstery then I bent over to hotwire the sultry little thing.

“You realize that’s illegal?” Ms. Jones enquired just as the engine sparked to life.

“A little grand theft auto never hurt anyone. Sorry, baby.” I stroked the dash lovingly, shifted into gear, and hit the gas. The Austin Healey crashed through the doors, splintering the wood. Chunks of door flew over the windshield and bounced off the cloth roof. Martha yelped. I cranked the wheel sharply when we hit the street, the bald tires letting us glide across the wet blacktop. “Oh man, this girl has some get-up!”

“Jack, _please_ don’t get us killed!” Martha shouted as we slipped and slewed.

“Have you ever known me to do anything the least bit reckless?” I hit the gas. The tires spun but finally grabbed, lurching us violently forward.

“We’re dead, we’re dead, we are so dead,” Martha mumbled as her fingers bit into the dash.

We raced back onto the main road, the car handling eighty-five nicely. “Get on my phone.” I tossed it to her then quickly took hold of the wheel again. “Call Gwen, Tosh, and Owen. Tell them we’re on our way but we need them there to get into the Hub. And then keep trying to contact Ianto.”

“Right.” She looked over her shoulder then down at the small space between the seats. “Where are the seatbelts?”

“There are none.” I glanced at her. Her eyes were wide. “It’ll be fine. I’m a good driver.”

“Jack! _The road!_ ”

My sight flew back to the rain-slick highway. We flew past an older sedan that had been toddling along. Probably because the driving conditions were lethal. I shifted into a higher gear and gave the Austin Healey a little more gas. The back end was a little loose but I have never held that against a woman.

“Are we going over a hundred?”

“Don’t waste time looking at the speedometer. Just call my team!”

“We’re dead, we’re dead, we are so dead,” Martha chanted while dialing.

 

**To be continued…**

 


	5. Echoes - Chapter Five - They Keep Shooting Owen

**Echoes**

**Chapter Five**

**They Keep Shooting Owen**

**Ianto**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

Things would get better soon. Jack was on his way. I only had to hold the fort until the cavalry showed up. No worries. There were three of them and one Ianto…hopefully one Ianto. The creature in the office with me made a sound like a wet slurp-snuffle then croaked. Not croaked as in died, but croaked like a frog. Or maybe a toad. Yes, a huge bullfrog croak was the sound and not a roar. My gaze flew to the tote resting beside Jack’s desk. Had these creatures spawned from the other chunks of that reptilian leg? That would explain where the rest of it had gone but not how it could shift its appearance as it did. Or perhaps the leg was all that was left of one. Aliens. They were just packed full of fun tricks. Extraterrestrial David Blaine’s as it were.

The desk shifted slightly. I inhaled to steady my nerves, rolled out of my hiding spot, and fired. The bullet hit Owen under the jaw.  Green ooze and brain matter exploded upward, spackling the ceiling of Jack’s office. The body fell over the desk. I hurried to get to my feet. My shirt slid down over my shoulder. It would have to stay there for a moment. There was no way I was moving my gun from the side of Owen’s head until I was sure the thing was dead. It twitched a few times and then the fake persona began to fade, leaving a blue froggy-like thing bleeding profusely all over Jack’s blotter and keyboard. He’d not be pleased about that.

The gunshot brought the other two aliens in. I looked at Jack and then at Gwen, my gun moving from one to the other, as they slowly moved closer. The one who had taken on Jack’s appearance glowered at me then made a low, dangerous sound deep in its chest. Gwen the Space Toad replied, the sound more like a small frog. The call was high-pitched yet delicate, seemingly feminine but what did I know? Obviously these creatures had a wide range of calls and vocalizations.

“Back up!” I yelled to be heard over all the bells and whistles. Jack flung a chair aside. I fired off a shot that hit him in the leg, my gut rolling over when I saw pain on his face even though I knew it wasn’t Jack. After this entertaining little party, I was putting in for some time off. Between trying to deal with spending more time with my sister and the memories of the abuse that always followed family time and now putting a slug into my lover’s thigh after shooting Owen yet again I felt a nice holiday was in order. Maybe someplace warm. Like Spain… or Greece. No, no. Not Greece. I could still see Jack spread eagle on the slab out in the woods, his blood coagulating on his sliced wrists as Hecate almost flickered into existence. Finding a vacation spot was going to be tricky by the looks.

The female dashed at me. I got a shot off but it hit the ceiling when her shoulder met my chest. My back hit the wall and all the air in my lungs rushed out of me. I spit out long dark hair and wrestled with her, trying to wrest free of her strong grip. The male – Jack – rumbled and ribbeted on the floor, the sounds quite pained.

“Sorry for this,” I grunted, grabbed a handful of silky hair and smashed Gwen’s face into the wall. Green blood ran out of her nose. She fell to her knees and I danced around the two of them and hit the stairs at a dead run.

I managed to get to the autopsy room before the bitch – and I use that term for Gwen only when she’s a space frog or when she’s giving Jack that longing, wistful look when she thinks no one can see her – caught up to me. She tackled me from behind, sending both of us over the rail. She landed on the stationary autopsy table, I hit a rolling cart filled with surgical items. The cart flipped over and I went to the floor. Froggy Gwen rolled off the table, her nose still leaking greenish blood, her eyes bright and sinister.

“I swear I will put a bullet in your head,” I warned her as I slowly got to one knee. Her reply was to make a move. I pulled the trigger, saw her head jerk back, and then looked away. The male up in Jack’s office called out. The cry went unanswered. Soon the Hub echoed with mournful croaks. Hopefully that slug in its leg would slow it down. I snuck out of the autopsy room, gun up, eyes on the computers. If only I could get to them and reverse the lockdown protocol. I glanced up and saw him, limping down the catwalks – Jack - his face contorted in hatred. I popped off a round that went over his head. A warning shot that failed to slow the alien down.

“As God as my witness, I am never eating frog legs again.”

Toady Jack was moving quickly for an amphibian with a hole in its meaty leg. I needed to get this thing into a cell. No, they’d all be popping open soon. Shit. I went with plan B.

“That’s right you handsome bastard,” I shouted over the deafening peals of the alarms. “You want me for killing the toady woman you love, come and get me.”

I jogged off, keeping him in my sights, leading him into the basements. He never wavered, never took his soulless eyes from me. We moved slowly, my gun sighted on his head.  I prayed that I would not have to shoot him. It. Shoot _it_. We reached the door.

I felt blindly behind me with one hand and threw the slide bolt, thrilled to note that the lock that required a key wasn’t engaged. The smell of blood and horror clung to the walls and floor as I backed into the small area. I tried not to look - not to take my sight off the alien in the great coat dragging its leg behind it - but I couldn’t stop myself. My gaze flitted over all the equipment still sitting as it had been, a horrid shrine to my stupidity and betrayal of Jack and this organization. Hopefully Jack had not disconnected the cybernetic conversion unit from the main electrical systems of the Hub yet.

“That’s right, just a little closer.” I angled myself around, working slowly to get my back facing the door. Jack turned slowly, a steady thrumming sound coming from his throat. “Are you mad or brokenhearted that I killed Gwen? Did you love her? Do you love me more?”

I blinked when I realized what I had been saying. As if that mattered now. I ran at him. He flew backward and I stayed with him, grabbing at his arms, hoping to get them into the cuffs. Jack got a hand free. The blow to my head felt like it had popped my eardrum. The pain was unreal. I brought my knee up, hoping that when this thing had become Jack it had also taken on his massive balls. The alien keened deeply after the low blow. I used its pain to my advantage and shoved its wrists into the cuffs. Once he was secure I slid off, tripping over my own feet as the room spun in a sickening circle. My left ear was ringing steadily.

Jack jerked on the bonds, his eyes locked on me as my hand rested on the power switch.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to him then flipped the power on. The lights flickered and I left quickly, throwing my back to the door as the machine began to cut, slice, and mutilate the mirror image of the man I loved. I let my back slide down the door until my ass met the cold, dank floor. There I sat until the creature stopped howling.

 

 

 

**To be continued…**

 


	6. Echoes - Chapter Six - Into the Depths

**Echoes**

**Chapter Six**

**In the Depths**

**Jack**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

“Oh, thank God,” Martha groaned when we could smell Cardiff Bay on the air. I hit the brakes of the Austin Healey then leaped out, hardly taking the time to turn off the engine before I was racing to the information center door, Martha on my heels.

“Jack, we’re almost in,” Gwen informed me. Toshiko was working on a laptop, her back pressed to the wall while Gwen held an alien lock opener to the blast door.

“Anything from Ianto?” I asked, pushing around Owen to lay my hands on the rolling door in preparation for it opening.

“No, nothing. It’s deadly quiet in there,” Owen replied. I gritted my teeth to keep myself from ripping into him for his choice of words. As soon as the device in Gwen’s hand signaled the lock was triggered the door began to roll. I grabbed it and pulled in desperation then slipped around and entered the Hub. It was, as Owen had so insensitively commented, deathly still.

“Ianto!” I yelled, flipping open my holster. The grip of my revolver was cool and familiar as I took a step and scanned the immediate area. “Tosh, I want to know where Ianto is right now.”

“I have one blip down in the basement. He’s outside the room.” I glanced over my shoulder at my team. We all knew which basement Tosh meant.

“Is he alive?” _Dear God please, I beg of you. Please._

“Yes.”

  _Thank you._ “Anything else meandering around?” We moved as a unit, surrounding Tosh who was typing furiously as we took one step and then another, weapons at the ready.

“No, nothing is coming up on my readings.”

I holstered my weapon and ran like a fool down to the basements, our footfalls loud on the wet cement flooring. Ianto was seated in front of the door where he had hidden Lisa. He lifted his head when he heard us thundering toward him then leaped to his feet, his gun coming up in a flash. Martha gasped and bumped into me. Owen and Gwen flanked me, their weapons on my lover.

“I swear I will kill all of you unless you prove to me that you’re not echoes of my friends!” Ianto shouted.

“Lower those weapons,” I barked as I held Ianto’s gaze. “Ianto, it’s me, Jack.”

“Prove it! How do I know you haven’t grown vocal cords? _Prove it!”_ He flipped off his safety. I took a step closer. I could see blood leaking from his ear as well as contusions on his upper body where his shirt gaped open. I put my arms out to the side, palms up.

“Last weekend we went to dinner at that little bistro on the west side. You had onion soup then complained how you feared it would put me off kissing you. So, I pulled you into the men’s room and showed you just how kissable you were.”

His eyes flickered over us, touching each person in that dank corridor. “We did more than kiss in that stall,” he whispered, his gun shaking strongly.

“Yes, we sure did. Ianto, it’s really me.” I took a couple more steps then stopped about a foot from him. I held out my hand. “Give me the gun.”

“I killed you,” he said, his voice catching. “And him and her.” He waved his pistol at Owen and Gwen.

“Right, well, shooting me is becoming a weekly event here, now isn’t it? Not unlike Tuesday Hoop Shots or Casual Friday,” Owen tossed out, his gun resting on Ianto even though I had told them to lower them. Damn people never listen.

“Ianto, the gun.” I extended my hand and he dropped the M1911 into my palm. I handed it back to Martha and then tugged him into my chest. I heard the collective sigh as I rubbed my cheek against his. “Are you okay?” I softly asked, my hands moving over him to check for something – bones sticking out of his back or sides – who knows. Perhaps I just needed to touch the man.

“Yes, good, I’m good.” He held me so tight breathing was tricky. I pulled free and led him away from the door. “I put you into the conversion unit…”

“It wasn’t me,” I told him again as I steered him away from the room. “Gwen and Owen, check out this place room by room in case there’s something hiding in a damn corner. Tosh, I want you running scans and pulling up all the CCTV information we can get. Martha, come with me. I want him checked out.”

“Right.”

“Yes.”

“We’re on it.”

Nice to hear them obeying orders for a change. Ianto’s hip bounced off mine as we slowly made our way to the medical bay.

“Really, I’m okay,” he stated after I firmly told him to put his tasty ass onto a gurney.

“Humor me.”

He rolled his eyes but did as directed. I stood off to the side as Martha smiled and chatted and examined my factotum from head to foot.

“He’s really okay aside from some inner ear damage,” Martha informed me while removing her blue latex gloves. “His eardrum is perforated. That should heal in a few weeks on its own, but I’d run some antibiotics through him since he’s covered with alien goop. Lord knows what he may have gotten into his mouth or other orifices.”

“Sitting right here,” Ianto mumbled and the doctor blushed.

“Yes, sorry, I was just making sure your partner was informed first. You know how he is about such things when it comes to you,” she winked then patted his thigh. That seemed to lessen the stern look he was now wearing.

“Care to tell me what happened?” I enquired as Martha began pawing through Owen’s cupboards in search of something. I walked closer, leaning on the gurney, his thigh resting on my hip.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze moving from Martha to me. “After you called I went to grab a nap and woke up to find you standing in front of me.” I cocked an eyebrow. “I should have known it wasn’t you. It had no wrist strap.” He wrinkled his nose at his own imagined stupidity. “Guess I was just so glad to see you that I wasn’t paying attention.”

I folded my arms over my soggy clothing to keep myself from reaching for him. The man was visibly shaken but coddling him in front of the others would not be appreciated. I’d have to tend to all that tactile neediness of mine when we got home. As Martha searched Ianto filled me in on the night he had experienced. I looked over when Gwen and Owen appeared.

“The place is clear but you have a bloody mess in your office,” Owen said and then marched over to see what Martha was doing in his medical supplies.

“None of the aliens look like us, Jack,” Gwen whispered. Ianto’s eyes widened.

“They did,” he quickly said, his gaze jumping from me to Gwen. “When I shot the Owen one I saw its mimicking effect wear off after death.”

“I believe you. I’m sure once Tosh has all the security tapes for us we’ll see this shift from alien to Torchwood members. Any ideas on how these creatures work?”

“I’d hypothesize they find DNA and shift into that person,” Martha said then handed Ianto a bottle of pills. “One every twelve hours for two weeks. Have Owen check that perforation in a week to make sure things are healing well.”

Ianto looked at Owen. “What she said,” our medic muttered. Tosh called out for us so we all went to view the CCTV tapes. What I saw was Ianto being the agent I always knew he would be. He had valiantly defended the Hub against three aliens. Three aliens that looked like blue toads.

“No, no, that’s not right. They were you three.” He nudged Tosh aside to attack the keyboard. I gave our computer genius a look that said “Let him do what he needs” and Tosh, sweet thing that she is, nodded in silence instead of getting her back up. After five minutes and fifty different angles, Ianto jammed his hands into his hair, utterly confused. “They were you three. I swear they were. My God, I kissed one! Do you think I would have done that if I didn’t think it was you, Jack?”

I stared at my lover for a long, long time. “Why don’t we go home? It’s been a long night for all of us.”

“Jack, I swear they looked like you three,” Ianto weakly argued, his gaze glued to the images playing on Tosh’s many monitors. Each screen showed Ianto dealing with the invaders but not a one showed us aliens that looked like us. “They did, I swear they did…”

“Can you four handle clean up?” They all bobbed their heads. I took Ianto by the arm and we left the madness and mucking up to the others. He seemed out of it until we walked up the Austin Healey.

“Where did you get this car?” Dawn was a few moments away from coloring the sky. I looked over the ragtop at him.

“I stole it.”

“Oh.” He opened the passenger door and folded himself into the car. I patted the canvas roof and slid behind the wheel. “I always fancied having an Aston Martin DB5, like James Bond had in _Goldfinger_. BMT 216A.”

“What are those numbers?” I asked as he stared through the windshield at the sun creeping up.

“The license plate on Bond’s Aston Martin. Those aliens really did look you and the others.”

And there was a flash of that amazing eidetic memory of his. “I believe you. Let’s go home and get some rest. I’m done in. Everything will look better after we get some sleep.”

“Okay, yes, sleep does sound good. You’ll stay?”

“Try to get me to leave.”

 

**To be continued…**


	7. Echoes - Chapter Seven - Nightlights

**Echoes**

**Chapter Seven**

**Nightlights**

**Ianto**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

My flat was stuffy, the heat overly warm on my skin. Jack moved around the place, cracking the windows to let a whisper of cool air in. I stood in the middle of my living room, watching him move, trying to memorize the flow of his muscles as he stretched or reached. In case I was ever faced with a doppelganger of his again I’d not be fooled so easily. Jack held out his hand. I emptied my pockets and placed everything into his palm then padded over and lifted his wet coat from the back of the sofa. He emerged from the kitchen after dropping off the combined items from our pockets and found me hanging up his outerwear and gave me a look of gentle recrimination.

“I would have gotten that,” he said as he worked on unbuttoning his shirt. It, and the white undershirt under the green cotton shirt, clung tenaciously to him, the wet material as greedy to touch him as I always was.

“It’s fine.” I pulled a face at the word. “I mean, I don’t mind taking care of your things.”

“Ianto, stop tidying up after me.”

“Sorry,” I hung the coat in the hall closet, leaving the door cracked to aid in drying the heavy material. I turned to look at him. “Tidying is one of the things that I excel at.” He glanced up while tugging his shirt free from his pants then wiggled out of his wet shirt and then the undershirt. Daybreak suited Jack Harkness. “They really did look like you and the others.”

He walked to me, wet shirts in his hand. “I believe you.”

“Good, because the longer it goes the less I believe myself,” I confessed. He ran the back of his fingers along my jaw.

“You’re a mess. I think a shower is needed.”

“That actually sounds incredible.” I pulled off my ruined shirt, suddenly conscious of my having left my jacket and tie at the Hub. “Can I go first this time?”

“I thought we’d shower together.”

“Ah, okay, yes, that would be nice.”

He strutted off, his knowledge of my flat comforting in ways that I had no need dwelling on. I followed on his heels then veered off to get undressed in my bedroom. Jack went right to the bath; his clothes being dropped to the bathroom floor I was certain. When I entered the bathroom, steam filled the small area. I stepped over his clothes, closed the door to keep the moisture in, and then pulled the liner back. Jack stood under the water, head back, eyes closed, water rushing down his chest and stomach. Was it normal to find a man’s body as beautiful as a natural wonder? Probably not, but there it was. The man was stunning in his masculine beauty, like the Colossus of Rhodes or the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, if gardens could be considered masculine.

His eyes opened and his sight caressed me. The jolt of his look touched me deep inside. I stepped into the shower, blocking the flow of hot water with the back of my head. Jack whipped the liner shut.

“Hand me the soap.” It was a gentle command. I did as he requested.

“Jack…” He took a short step, one that made his wet body come into direct contact with mine.

“Unless what you’re going to say has to do with what’s happening right here and now, save it for later. This is for you, this shower, this sex, me.” He placed the bar of soap on my chest, his gaze locked on my mouth as he began moving the blue bar in a lazy circle. “Now, were you going to say something about this?” His right hand slid down over my stomach, the aroma of the soap filling the stall. I shook my head.

“No, not about this.” I went in for a kiss. His lips were willing, so I took more and then more still, probing deeply into his mouth. I heard the soap land somewhere outside the shower. I reached around him, cupped his ass with both hands, and jerked him tight to me. He grunted in pleasure, his hands coming up to hold my head in place. The dynamic shifted. Jack grew hungrier, more assertive. That change thrilled me, freed me. He walked me back a few steps. My shoulders met the tiles. I still clung to his ass, twisting and fondling the tight glute muscles roughly. His cock was hot and hard. I gyrated my hips eagerly, rubbing my prick over his. We both sucked in air and water. Jack went in for another kiss, this one just as demanding.

“Is this what you want, Ianto,” he whispered between long sweeping explorations of my mouth. “Is it?”

“Yes, I want you here…like this,” I gasped. He kissed a path from my mouth to my shoulder, bit down roughly, suckled a bit, and then eased his hand between us. His fingers closed around my cock. I let my head fall forward to rest on his shoulder, my ear ringing steadily. His strokes were slow at first. I massaged his ass and lapped up water that sluiced down over his head then over his neck.

“Turn around,” he said after several long minutes. I lifted my head to gaze at him. “Relax. You trust me?”

“I do, yes, I do.” I stole a kiss and then another. Jack gently spun me to face the wall. Eyes closed, palms and brow on the slick tile, I threw off the heavy yoke of control and let Jack have it. He ran his hands over my back, his fingertips bouncing along my ribs. I swayed gently left then right, spreading my legs in eager anticipation. He teased a bit, mouthing along my spine, cupping my balls, rubbing a finger around my rim. I pushed back at the finger resting on my opening. Jack nibbled and sucked along my back, pressing that finger in just a fraction of an inch then removing it until low, pleading entreaties began rolling out of me.

“I think you’re ready. Are you, Ianto?” The shower caddy dropped back to the wall after he plucked the conditioner bottle out of it. A shudder of want coursed through me when I realized what the conditioner was being used for. “Tell me, are you ready?” He stepped up closer again. I drew in a quick, shaky breath when the head of his prick slipped over my perineum. “Ianto, I have to hear it.”

“Yes, yes, I’m ready. Shit, ah, yes.” I tried to dig my fingers into the shower tiles but they simply squeaked. Jack’s groan of pleasure filled the stall as he eased into me, inch by inch, giving my body time to stretch and accommodate. Drawing in a breath became tricky when he was fully seated inside me. There was so much Jack taking up every square inch of me emotionally and physically that it was almost overwhelming.

“Now let go, Ianto,” he said then began to move, in then out, the pace timid at first then quickly ramping up. He held my cheek to the tile with his left hand, his right coming around to latch into my cock.

“Damn, damn, oh damn…” My orgasm hit me like a runaway train. It knocked the wind out of me and left me shaking, pulverized, and sated as only he could leave me. “Harder, now, yes, good.”

Jack came then, rising to his toes to thrust deeply. “Ianto,” he ground out, dropping my cock to grab a shoulder and tug soundly back on it. The come stroke hurt a bit but I arched back for more just the same, eager for the burn and heat of Jack’s body emptying into mine. The crown of my head now rested on the shower wall, my arms overhead. Jack bowed over me, his cock thick and hot and so very deep. I opened my eyes and blinked, staring at the water circling down the drain. Jack’s fingers moved from my shoulder to my hair, fisting a sodden brown handful, he gently righted me, his cock slipping out a bit. He chewed on my neck like a playful lion cub. I craned my  head, enjoying the feel of the hot water pounding on my throat as Jack mouthed my neck.

“Ready for some sleep now?” Sleep sounded wonderful and so I told him that. “Let me get the soap.” I turned to face him. He opened the shower curtain, snapped the bar of soap off the floor, shut the liner, and then pushed the bar up my throat and over my cheeks. I gazed into his eyes as he worked up a lather. His sight stayed with mine.

“You’re my nightlight, did you know that?” I asked.

His lips quirked a bit. “I keep you from stubbing your toe when you wake up to use the toilet in the middle of the night?” His fingertips moved down my neck then back up.

“You’re the reason the dark seems less frightening.”

“Damn it, Ianto.” He kissed me in lieu of knowing what else to do, I assumed. We somehow managed to get washed and somewhat dried before we fell into our bed. My bed. The bed. Whatever the fuck. Who cares who the bed belongs to? It was our bed, just as this flat was ours and the coffee mugs were ours and the clothes in the closet were ours.

We made love again, the sex this time soft oral pleasures for both of us that eased me into a deep sleep that was, thankfully, free of dreams and echoes.

 

**To be continued…**


	8. Echoes - Chapter Eight - Coffee and Sweet Buns

**Echoes**

**Chapter Eight**

**Coffee and Sweet Buns**

**Jack**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

I came awake with him tight to my side. Leaving my eyes shut, I breathed in and out, inhaling the scent of Ianto, me, sex, and that light floral fabric softener he uses. It was a tantalizing aroma to be sure. Sometimes I could find myself at work stressed to the max and call up that scent to calm me. He murmured softly then shifted around, flopping to his back, and then rolling to his side. I listened as he slipped back into a deep slumber, his breathing akin to yogic and so I patterned mine after Ianto’s. We lay side by side, him sleeping peacefully and me studying his ceiling, until my bladder prodded me to move.

Rolling to the left I saw that I had slept for six straight hours. Without one single nightmare. How about those apples as they used to say back when swing was king? I sat up, the covers puddling in my lap, and reached over to run a hand over Ianto’s bare ass as a form of thanks. It was only with him beside me that I found that kind of rest.

Realizing I was meandering mentally I shook off the fuzzy stuff drifting around inside my head. The day beckoned. I tossed the covers up and over his exposed body before I got ideas, and made my way to the bathroom. The shave and shower routine ran on automatic, as did returning to Ianto’s bedroom to find some clean clothes. As I dug around in the top two drawers of his dresser, I paused suddenly, my hands holding neatly folded undergarments.

“Wow.” I stared at the two dresser drawers standing open, each filled with my shirts, trousers, socks, underwear, and white t-shirts. When had this happened? I didn’t recall us sitting down to discuss drawer allocation. I stood there stunned, water dripping from my hair, my naked ass growing chilly, and had a complete mental shutdown for several long seconds. My gaze flew to Ianto then back to those drawers. “Wow,” I mumbled again and closed both drawers. I dressed, fixed my hair, and hustled off to get some coffee brewing.

After I had coffee brewing and the water in the tea kettle was simmering, I sat down at the table, placed my mug on the placemat, and stared out the window over the kitchen sink. The little bit of a breeze slipping around the inch-wide gap in the window felt good as it tickled my face. I mulled over things. Things being those drawers. Things being my toothbrush and shaving kit in the bathroom. Things being my books scattered around. Things being my shoes under the bed, my coat hanging on its sturdy hangar in the hall closet, and my wallet and keys lying on the lazy Susan with his wallet and keys. Ianto had not brought my clothes and personal things here, I had. Bit by bit, book by book, shirt by shirt, I had essentially moved in without realizing it. Huh.

“Wow,” I mumbled once again then forced myself to think on something else. I picked up my phone and called Tosh at the Hub, directing her to send me every second of tape we had from the past forty-eight hours.

“I’ll send that to your phone,” she said then reached up to remove her glasses, her soft brown eyes filling with concern. “Is Ianto all right?”

“He’ll be fine. Tell Gwen and Owen that I know they’re monumentally late and that I’ll glower at them when I drag my ass -which is also late – into work.”

“I’m here on time,” she chirped. I gave her a smile.

“You’re always on time. When do you sleep?”

“Oh, I squeeze it in.” She chose that moment to yawn behind a hand. “There was something odd in one of the tapes that I’ve been trying to work out.”

“Odd? How?”

“A shimmer or something…” she placed her glasses back on. “Or I could have been seeing things. Maybe I _do_ need sleep instead of sex.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Blasphemer.” My mind went to Ianto and all that hard muscle. I’d sooner pass out face first into in my food from exhaustion than give up any opportunity to have sex. Actually, I _had_ done that on occasion… “Hold down the fort. I hope to be there within the hour.”

“Will do!” She yawned, blushed prettily, and then severed the link. I looked around the kitchen, my fingers cradling my mug.

“I have slipped unknowingly into domesticity,” I sighed, took a loud slurp of my coffee then wondered why the realization of that didn’t make me want to bolt for the door. Leaning back in my chair I gave the lazy Susan a spin. Our personal effects went around and around. My thoughts spun with the keys, wallet, and napkin holder. Out of ten thousand warring things buzzing around inside my head, one or two important ideas stayed at the front:

 

One -I was not sure how to handle this discovery of contentment concerning my socks in his drawers.

Two -  Ianto seemed to be showing some signs of stress that, I feared, were manifesting from my not-so-subtle nudging of him to engage more with Rhiannon.

 

I got a fresh cup of coffee and grabbed a sweet bun from the box on the counter. It was a little stale but ten seconds in the microwave would fix that. When the microwave beeped, I took out my bun, sat back down and ate, my mind busy. I watched several of the tapes Tosh had sent to my cell and my concern grew a little deeper. I saw nothing – no shimmer of any kind – that would indicate those aliens Ianto had battled had ever looked like anything other than aliens. Had he hallucinated that? Maybe Tosh would find something. I hoped she would. Worry heavy on my shoulders I pulled up a news page, ran my eyes over the headlines, and was about to close the page out when I saw a small ad in the sidebar. I pinched the image and then expanded it.

Ianto chose that moment to shuffle into the kitchen. I looked up from the picture on my phone. He had pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms that rode low on his hips. The sleepy Ianto Jones look made me itch to get him back into bed.

“You made coffee?”

“Yes, and it’s not half bad.” That was a bald-faced lie. It was terrible coffee. He made a face. “There’s hot water for tea.” I motioned at the kettle on the stove. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” His nose crinkled. “I’m good. Well, good might be stretching things. I’m up and moving and relatively sure I’m in possession of all my wits.”

“You’re well loved too,” I pointed out.

“Yes, I am amazingly well loved.” His scruffy cheeks grew a little pink. My itch intensified.

“How would you feel about taking a vacation?” I tossed out, my sight leaving him pouring hot water into a mug to focus on the advertisement for a Cardiff travel agency. When he didn’t reply, I looked up from sunny Portugal to find him gaping at me, tea pot in one hand, tea bag in the other.

“Have I stepped into an alternate universe?”

“Not to my knowledge,” I replied.

“No, I must have.” He put the kettle back on the stove and dropped his bag into the steaming water. Then his attention landed on me. “This must be a parallel world. What other reason would there be that could explain how, not all that long ago, I had to beg you to give me a weekend away.”

“I – well… it…”

He lifted his mug to his lips, tipping his head slightly. “I’m sorry, perforated eardrum and all. I missed your reply.”

I gave him a look that said his sardonic comment was not appreciated. “This is different.”

“Oh? And why is that? Because it’s now your idea and that gives it more credence?”

“No, because I think some time away would do you good.”

“You don’t really believe me about those aliens in the Hub last night, do you?” There should have been some pat little condescending reply for me to feed him but there wasn’t. I just sat there, coffee mug in hand, looking at him. “Your silence tells me all I need to know.”

“Ianto, I’m just worried that you’re having some post-traumatic stress issues.”

“I know what I saw, Jack. It wasn’t stress-induced projections.”

I pushed my chair back and got to my feet. He needed a tactile connection, I could see it in the way his jaw was set. Ianto might shy from others touching him but he seemed to draw something from being in contact with me. As soon as I took a step in his direction he came to me. I welcomed him into my embrace, snugging him tightly to my chest, directing his head to my shoulder with a gentle leading hand.

“It’s okay to be struggling, Ianto. I know that I pushed you into shining a light on those skeletons in your closet. If I caused any harm by doing so…” I stroked his tangled hair.

“No, it was good to push a bit. I’d not have ever confessed what happened to anyone.” He lifted his nose from my throat. Our sight met. “I can talk to you now when things get overwhelming. It helps.” I moved to kiss him but he turned away which truly had to be a first. “I’ve not brushed my teeth yet.”

“Ah.” I pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek instead. “So, no Portugal then?”

“When you’re _really_ interested in taking a trip with me, then toss that offer on the table and I’ll be packing so damn fast your head will spin.”

“Want some sweet buns?” I asked unexpectedly. His brows knitted. I jerked my head in the direction of the stale baked goods on the counter.

“I’d rather brush my teeth and get a shower. Then I can enjoy your sweet buns.”

Needless to say, we got his ass into the shower pronto.

 

**To be concluded…**

 


	9. Echoes - Chapter Nine - Dismantling the Past

**Echoes**

**Chapter Nine**

**Dismantling the Past**

**Ianto**

(Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.)

 

“Right.” I looked at the dried alien blood soaked into the fine wood of Jack’s desk. “Right.” I knew I was repeating myself but I had no clue how to easily remove dried alien blood from wood. Gwen and Owen had gathered up the corpses which I had insisted on disposing of. They had also removed the worst messes – Jack’s blotter and keyboard – but they’d not yet gotten time to scrub things down. Since this mess was my doing, when I arrived I said I would tend to it. Jack had gone off to do something somewhere. “Right.”

I took off my jacket, unbuttoned my sleeves and rolled them up over my elbow. Then I shoved my hand into the bucket of hot, soapy water and pulled out the old scrub brush, water and soap running down to my elbow.

“Guess we do this the old-fashioned way,” I sighed. Actually, the repetition of scrubbing and seeing the muck washing away began to make me feel slightly better. Knowing that Jack thought I was having some sort of mental issues had me feeling uneasy.

“Knock, knock.” I glanced up from the desktop to see Tosh standing just inside Jack’s office door, her laptop in her arms and a soft smile on her face. “Hard at it, I see.”

“Yes, well, Jack’s rather touchy about alien brain matter on his desk.” I straightened up then wiped my wet hands on my trousers.

“As we all are,” she commented then walked toward me. “I have something that I’d like you to see.”

She sat in Jack’s office chair. I walked behind her to observe over her shoulder. “How goes things with Chadwick?”

Tosh stopped typing for a second and looked back at me. Her glasses were low on her nose. I thought the look an attractive one. “You know how it is. Relationships are hard.”

“Yes, but he knows about us and what we do. That must make it easier.”

“Oh yes, it does, but there are still nights that I’m here and he’s not. I’ve not a clue how Gwen and Rhys make it work being apart so often. You and Jack are lucky. You’re together all the time.”

“Well, it’s not as easy as you’d think. Jack is…complicated.” I had to get off this topic. I could see the curiosity in her eyes and as much as I adore Tosh I was _not_ discussing Jack and I with her now. Maybe someday... “So, what was it you wanted me to see.”

She gave me an awkward smile. “You and Jack are so similar in so many ways. As soon as anyone gets close to talking about your relationship you both tense up and deflect.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed. So, the thing you wanted me to see?”

“Right.” She snickered and with a few keystrokes had slow-motion footage of my tussle with the Owen alien on the monitor. “It’s easy to miss. I had to break down the footage and go through them all frame-by-frame.”

“That must have taken you hours.” She nodded. “And so, you lost a night with Chadwick for me?”

“It’s fine.” That was obviously a lie but I didn’t call her on it. “He understands…mostly. So, if we look here…” she tapped at the frozen image on her monitor, “…and then slowly run the tape ahead we get this.” A brief shimmer occurred on the screen. “Did you catch it?” She rewound. We watched that shimmering effect several times. “I think it’s some sort of reflective cloaking skill that bends light around the alien. Or maybe a perception filter that might manipulate the brain waves of the people close by. Those are my two theories on how they mimic our appearances, or at least I _think_ that’s how it possibly worked.”

“Can you send that film that to my mobile?”

“Yes, of course. Do you want me to send it to Jack’s as well?”

“No, I’ll go find him and show him.”

She closed her laptop after forwarding me the evidence of my sanity. “Owen is playing with the remains. Perhaps he might have a physiological answer in a day or two. At least you know you weren’t seeing things.” She patted my arm. “That has to be a relief.”

“You have no idea.” I gave her a quick hug and ran off to locate Mr. Harkness. I found him in the basement that held the cybernetic conversion paraphernalia, working by hand to dismantle things with a wrench. “Jack?”

He glanced up, his face set and grim. “I thought I asked you to focus on getting my office cleaned.”

“I was working on that but…why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to feel the joy of taking it apart with my bare hands.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know and I want this gone from our lives forever.” He and I stood looking at each other. “It’s a constant reminder to you.”

“Thank you.” I drew in a long breath. He inclined his head. “I’m not sure what to say here.”

“There’s nothing to say. It’s long overdue. So, what brings you down here? Miss my sparkling wit?”

“Always,” I replied then closed the distance. “Tosh found something.” I handed off my mobile and waited as he watched, my gaze purposely avoiding the conversion apparatus above my head and to my side. His sight lifted from my phone.

“Her shimmer.” His eyes met mine. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

Not touching him was now painful. I grabbed at him. He pulled me to him, my brow resting on his.

“Don’t be sorry for caring about me. I love that you do.” His eyes shuttered for a moment, a shadow moving over the deep blue of his irises, and then shifting away to show clear sapphire. “Jack, I…”

It was there, on the tip of my tongue. I kissed him before I could say it despite how much saying it and hopefully hearing it in reply would mean. This room was not where confessions of love should happen. This room held nothing but death and dark memories. When our time came, I wanted it to be when we were slick and sated after sex. I wanted us to be so bound in the emotions and feelings of sharing out bodies and souls that the words were as natural as reaching for the other in the dark of night.

“Would you like a hand?” I enquired after the kiss ended.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do.” I stepped away from him and held out my hand. He gave me my mobile. I shoved it into my back pocket and then extended my hand yet again. Jack slapped the wrench he had been holding across my palm.

“You realize that you’re now…”

“Holding your tool. Yes, I realize that.” Our sight never moved from the other.

“Did you know I have a thing about hearing you talk dirty while wearing a suit?”

“Offices and suits. You certainly do have the oddest fetishes.”

“Would you say it again?” He waited like an expectant puppy.

“Holding your tool,” I sighed. He feigned a rolling shudder.

The things one did for love…

 

 

**The End**

**Next up will be another “Day in the Life” one-shot and then we’ll be starting a new story titled “Hounds & Hollyhocks”.**

**Thank you so much for reading along.**

**Yours in fiction—**

**Feral**

 

 

 


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